Heir of Destruction
by SoulsOnFire
Summary: Edward Cullen lives up to his bad boy reputation at school, but what happens when a girl whose secrets will change the course of his life moves to Forks and sends everything into a tailspin? [E/B AU AH Mafia fic][Firefly]
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: We do not own twilight. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the authors. The authors are in no way associated or affiliated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended**_

 _ **A Firefly Story**_

Fate is a fickle friend. It turns its back on you, mocks you and then throws you into the impossible. I could handle the mocking, it was the rest that pushed me into situations like the one I currently found myself in. Tugging fruitlessly at the disheveled locks of hair on my head, I let out a groan of frustration and pushed off the bed, my hands instinctively reaching for my jacket as I made my way out of the house. It had been years since I'd dreamed about my mother, a feat for which I was more than grateful for. It wasn't that I had any ill memories of my mom - she was the ideal definition of the term - it was just that the onslaught of memories brought back emotions I had long since avoided. Emotions that I had no interest in experiencing.

Rummaging through my pockets, I feel my shoulders sag in relief as I pull out my pack of cigarettes. I had no intention of going back inside for my shit and didn't particularly rejoice at the thought of a three hour car ride to Seattle with only my thoughts for company tonight, but there was no way I'd be sitting here trapped in the whirlwind of my past. Lucky for me, I always kept a few joints stuffed in between the nicotine. I'd have preferred something a bit more mind numbing, but fuck it. Weed would help the anxious feeling I'd been experiencing all morning. I typically stayed away from everything else anyway, even if I did always have it on hand.

Taking up residence on the top of the stairs, I lean my back against the porch railing and grimace in distaste as the moisture from the wood seeps through my clothing. Crossing my legs at the ankles, I tilt my head back and look up at the overcast sky as I flick my lighter and inhale so deeply that it causes my eyes to water and a stinging sensation to build up in my lungs. Exhaling, I turn my head towards the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires. I wasn't expecting company, and I sure as shit wasn't expecting my father to show up anytime soon. Since my mothers death he tended to avoid me at all costs, only showing up when absolutely necessary. The majority of his time was spent in Seattle doing what he liked to call "business." I stopped questioning it years ago. As long as the man didn't cut my funds, I could care less what he spent his time doing. I had been out of school for the past week due to a minor disciplinary infraction. Suspended for five days for smoking on campus, as if being granted permission to stay home for a week was a real punishment, but I was on edge thinking he would show up for the first few days. Suffice to say he hadn't and I'd somehow avoided what would have inevitably been an argument that ended with empty threats from him and completely entitled disinterest from me.

The slamming of a car door broke me from my reverie and I focused my gaze on Mikes piece of shit truck as it sat idling in my driveway.

''Yo! E!" The scowl that appeared on my face was partially because of my dislike for the guy and partially because he had somehow gotten the idea that he could show up unannounced.

''Mike." The tone of my voice would have typically been enough to broadcast my displeasure at the situation, but Mike was oblivious as he bounced his keys in his hand and made his way over to me. "Hey man! You've been MIA for a few days and I was hoping to score a little something before Eric's party tonight."

Quirking a brow, I twirl my lighter between my fingers and pause for a moment as I consider how to reply. "And you thought you'd just stop by? What, you don't own a phone?"

Truth be told, this suspension had really cut into my profits. I rarely had people come by the house to pick shit up and didn't care too much for the concept of jumping up to meet people across town. Forks was a small place and word got around fast, not that I minded too much, but the pathetic excuse for law enforcement tended to keep a careful eye on me in public. It wasn't worth the risk. Dealing hadn't always been my thing, but I was good at it and it helped stash the money I needed. Sure, Daddy-O had plenty of cash that I could dip my fingers into, but if I was being honest with myself—and I very rarely am—there was only one thing I wanted to do in this world more than anything, and that was to say I made it out of here without a dime from that man. So I did what I needed to do. I sold what I needed to sell and only personally stuck my fingers into the bags of weed I picked up in Seattle every few weeks.

Mike was still going on about how he'd tried to call but I hadn't answered and some new kids that had the entire school talking, a story that I was in no way interested in, and finally shut his mouth just as rain drops started to fall from the sky in typical Forks fashion. Rolling my eyes, I jumped up and out of the rain with a simple "Wait here," thrown over my shoulder. The prick could stay outside and get wet. Taking my time, I weigh out his usual. Mike was into powder, a nasty habit he'd picked up after doing a few lines at a party awhile back. He was a regular, and if he didn't shell out so much cash I wouldn't have anything to do with him simply because of his sheer idiocy. The coke was definitely doing a number on his brain cells. I bagged up some extras and made my way back downstairs. If Eric was having a party, Mike wouldn't be the only one looking to score, especially since I hadn't sold to anyone in over a week. The good folks of Forks had to be running dry.

A well aimed threat to Mike about keeping his shitty excuse of a vehicle out of my driveway and a fifteen minute drive later, I pulled into the only gas station in town. Eric's parties were notoriously big around here. He has an uncle that's a cop, and a heads up or two goes a long way, so the delinquents of Forks High consider it safe to really let loose. Except for me, that is. Shoving the gas nozzle into my Volvo, I punch the fuel option and click it into place before leaving it to fill up on its own.

The fluorescent lights in the store make everything look washed out, and good 'ol Wayland behind the register looks days away from his deathbed. Maybe it's the ever present tall boy in his hand that does it instead of the lighting, but who the fuck am I to judge? Snagging a bag of chips from the shelf, I toss them down in front of him. "Marlboro Reds, Way." Wayland and I struck a deal a few years back. He sells my underaged ass cigarettes and I keep my mouth shut about the time I caught him and Harry Clearwater in a position that the nosy broads of Forks would tear to pieces. Harry's wife wouldn't even make it out unscathed. Swiping my card, I nod my thanks to Wayland and finish up at the gas pump with a mouthful of Cheetos. There was no way I was getting that shit in my car.

The drive to Seattle is a monotonous one and even my iPod can't stop the remnants of my dream from swirling around my memory like a venomous fog. By the time I pull into Janes driveway, I'm aggravated and fidgety. Exhaling out of my nose, I rake my hand through my hair as I make my way around back, seriously reconsidering my "No Smoking" rule for the Volvo. Janes place caters to a fuckload of people I'd rather not run into, but thankfully nobody seems to be around today. A sharp meow makes her cat known, and I chuckle as she jumps down from her perch and rubs up against my leg. Bending down, I scoop the furball up and knock twice. Janes pretty strict about using her back door instead of the front; She's convinced that the amount of traffic her house receives is less noticeable that way. I'm not sure I agree, but again, that's not my shit to worry about and its worked fine for her so far.

The door opens to reveal bloodshot eyes, and I wince as Gianna's head comes into view seconds before her voice screeches out. "Eddie! Oh, I didn't know you were coming by."

The girl could never take no for an answer, and even though Jane uses her for a runner and she's rarely here, I never stay long when she is. It's smart on Janes part to have someone overly loyal that'll hand deliver drugs to people she doesn't trust enough with her address, but Gianna's been after my dick since I started this shit. A swipe of claws brings my attention back to the wad of black fur in my arms and I give Salem an apologetic scratch as I push past Gianna and her fluttering lashes. The cat didn't like her either. Janes sitting cross legged in her usual spot on the couch, and she looks up and laughs when she sees me. She knows exactly how I feel about her minion. Taking up residence next to her, Salem jumps out of my lap and curls up on top of the couch behind my head.

"That cat never leaves your side when you're here. Goddamn pussy magnet. Hey, Gianna. I've got a run for you." Tossing her a bag, Jane glances at me before continuing. "James is at his usual place. It's four hundred, and spreading your legs for him doesn't earn him a discount. Got it?" Smirking, I keep my mouth shut as Gianna bites her lip, glances at me and leaves without a word.

I wait until the door shuts behind her before turning to look at her. "James? Really, Jane? That asshole is nothing but trouble." Laughing, Jane reaches for the bong on the table and takes a hit before offering it to me. A long exhale has her speaking over the bubbles as I take my share. "Trouble whose daddy has a lot of money. He doesn't come here, and Gianna doesn't complain." Coughing a laugh, I shake my head. "That's disgusting. One of these days I'm going to tell her I'm fucking you. That might get her off of my shit." Snorting, Jane sets the bong aside. She knows two hits is my limit when I have to drive. "If she didn't see me fucking Chelsea this morning she might believe you. Speaking of daddies, your pops came by this morning." Gritting my teeth, I turn my head to look at her and work to keep the glare off of my face.

I knew Jane bought her shit off of Carlisle, but I didn't like to hear about it. When I first showed up at her door, she couldn't understand why I didn't just get my supply from him directly, but over time she came to believe me when I said I didn't want anything to do with the man. "He was asking about you." A dry, humorless laugh leaves my throat and I reach for my wallet. Pulling out the required amount of money, I drop it onto the coffee table. "Carlisle knows where to find me if he has questions. I'll take my usual, Jane. Double the Adderall and Ex." We're both silent as she weighs out my purchase, the mere mention of my father sucking the carefree nature out of the room. Standing to leave, I give Salem a parting scratch and I'm almost to the door when Jane calls out to me. "Edward?" Stopping, I turn my head to look over my shoulder. "I didn't tell him anything. You know I wouldn't, but he sounded like he was planning something. Something that has to do with you. Just keep your eyes open, alright?" Sighing, my shoulders slump as I nod. "Yeah, Jane. Thanks for the heads up. I'll catch you next time."

Pushing the door open, I let it shut behind me and pull out a cigarette. The sun went down while Jane and I were talking, and the flick of my lighter is enough to illuminate my face as I walk. Throwing my bag from Jane onto the passenger seat, I lean against my car until my hands stop shaking. I'm not afraid of my father, even if he is directly responsible for my mother's death. I don't think he has it in him to hurt me, but I knew there would come a day that he'd want more from me. Expect more from me. Hell, before mom died I'd grown up preparing for it. By the time I get into my car there's three cigarette butts lying in Janes driveway from yours truly and a glance at the clock tells me I'll be late to Eric's party. Reaching under the seat, I feel around until my hand comes into contact with cool metal. I don't pull it out, but knowing that my gun is where I left it calms my nerves enough that I put my car into reverse and speed back towards Forks.

Come hell or high water, I was ready for whatever my father was planning, but I wasn't going to worry about it until I had to.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: We do not own twilight. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the authors. The authors are in no way associated or affiliated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

 _ **A Firefly Story  
**_

 **BPOV**

I didn't want to be here. The smell of cheap beer and sweaty bodies was enough to make that fact abundantly clear to me, but I, unfortunately, didn't have a choice in the matter. I'd been in this shitty excuse for a town for nearly a week and had yet to see the illustrious Edward Cullen. If the rumors were true he was suspended for punching Tyler Crowley in the mouth. Some said he was caught bending Jessica Stanley over the principals desk. It took Jaspers charm and five minutes of rummaging through the desk that I was certain Edward hadn't fucked anyone on to learn it was a minor smoking infraction that kept him out of school. Getting caught dick deep on school campus would likely warrant an expulsion, or at the very least a parent teacher conference, and I was certain Carlisle didn't know about the suspension. If he did, he hadn't told me, and I wasn't here to play tattletale, so he wouldn't learn about it from me either. If he and Uncle Aro expected me to report anything back to them through this assignment, they were going to be sorely disappointed.

Taking a swig of the beer that had warmed in my solo cup, I grimace at the bitter taste. Jaspers responding chuckle is followed up with a flask being passed my way. With a quirk of my brow, I sniff the contents before bringing it to my mouth. "What the fuck, Jay? You've had whiskey this entire time? Why am I drinking this garbage?" Scowling, I shove the red cup into his hand and hug the flask to my chest. If there was one good thing about this entire situation it was that Carlisle and Aro had allowed Jasper to come with me. I can't imagine going through this misery by myself, and as far as people went, Jasper wasn't bad. I could trust him. I'd known him for as long as I could walk, and he'd saved my life more than once. Then again, I'd saved his a few times too.

"Sorry, Darlin', that's some expensive liquor and I wasn't planning on sharing. Looks like you can use it more than me tonight, though." Sighing, I glance around the party and pass Jasper his flask. "I was sure he'd show up tonight. The sooner we get this started, the sooner we can get out of this hellhole. They don't even have a Walmart, Jasper." At least in Seattle it was easier to blend into a crowd. I wasn't entirely sure how long I'd be able to tolerate the small minded town gossip. The last thing I needed was my moves being watched by nosey house wives and their misguided children. Lauren Mallory's mother had already started a rumor about Jasper and I, something I was quick to shut down when I told everyone he was my adopted brother.

"Hey Bella! Can I get you a beer?" Dragging my eyes across Newton's inside out T-shirt, I grimace, not entirely sure if the cause is due to the thought of trying to swallow down a cup of warm Rainier again or the amount of hair gel the guy had caked into his hair. Before I can open my mouth to reply, he interrupts. "Yeah, the beer isn't really where the party is at, anyway." Wagging his brow suggestively, I immediately hone in on Mikes need to brag and the knowledge that Cullen is Forks High Schools sole supplier. "It's not? I didn't think Forks really had the means to party."

Jasper, catching onto my ploy, takes a step back and lifts his phone to his ear to answer a call we both knew hadn't really come through. Mike takes a furtive glance at him and all too eagerly takes his place by my side. "Your brother is pretty protective, huh?" Shrugging, I glance back at Jasper before turning to smile at Mike, my hand landing on his forearm. "Jaspers cool. You don't need to worry about him." Edward must not be very good at what he does, and I wonder, not for the first time, why Carlisle was so determined to bring him into this life. It shouldn't be so easy to get his name out of a frat boy at a party. It takes less than two minutes of flirtatious gestures and high pitched giggles for Newton to tell me he had an eight ball of coke in his pocket. When I decline his offer to join him in the bathroom for a line, my excuse is that coke isn't my thing. The truth of the matter was I never did drugs. I didn't trust anybody in this life enough to let my inhibitions get away from me, and the constant need to be alert and aware of my surroundings tampered any and all desires to contaminate myself with chemicals. Not to mention I'd been raised by a man whose entire legacy profited off of the addiction of others. I'd never give anything that kind of power over me. Alcohol, at least, was something I indulged in when it was necessary, but never enough to consider myself intoxicated. "…and E should be here soon. I can introduce you, if you want. I'm sure he's got whatever it is you need." Peering up at Newton through my lashes, I smile. "Are you sure he's coming? I haven't seen anyone..." Trailing off, I shrug and he jumps in without hesitation. "Oh, yeah. Definitely. E doesn't miss any of Eric's parties, and I was at his place this afternoon." The grin that overtakes my face is blinding, and Mike doesn't bother to hide his exuberance at seeing me pleased with his information. Tossing his arm around my shoulders, I shift so his body isn't pressing against mine, ignoring the smirk Jasper is sporting.

I'm stuck under Mikes arm for twenty minutes as he shuffles us from friend to friend, his chest puffed out and a shit eating grin on his face. I did my best to look unrepulsed, and were it not for years of experience keeping my bearing and my face void of emotion, it would've been a much more difficult struggle. Instead, I played along with Newton's obvious display of claim, idly wondering how much of a problem it was going to be when he realized I wasn't the least bit interested in him. "Edward!" A screech has me looking up, my gaze locking in on the sight of a redhead with a wild mane of hair wrapping herself around the sole reason I was in this godforsaken town. I'd only ever seen pictures of Edward, and they didn't really do the guy justice. He was easily the most attractive guy in the room, and judging by the arrogant way he carried himself, he knew it. In my world, arrogance would get you killed. Gnawing on my lip, I briefly consider my plan as Mike catches onto Edwards arrival and steers us in his direction. The girl, the one with the fiery head of hair whose name I'd either neglected to learn or entirely forgotten, was sliding her hands across his black leather jacket and dipping her fingers beneath the collar of his shirt as Edward bumped his fist against Eric Yorkies. I don't miss the exchange of drugs that occurred in the midst of it, but it's stealthy enough I'm sure everyone else does. Maybe the guy had some promise after all.

Ducking out from underneath Mikes hold on me before he can fully drag me towards Edward, I smile apologetically at him. "Sorry, Mike. I have to use the restroom. I'll catch up with you." Before he can answer, I move through the crowd, weaving through people and avoiding cups of sloshing beer. Pulling off my sweater, I sidle up next to Jasper, who was halfheartedly engaging in a conversation with Jessica. She was whining about how her goldfish had died, trying to extract sympathy from a guy who had put a barrel against someone's head and pulled the trigger on more than one occasion. The irony was not lost on me, and I swallowed my laugh as I grabbed Jaspers elbow and pulled him away. "Sorry, Jess. I need his help." Jaspers low whistle has me spinning on my heel and shoving my sweater into his hands. "That's some crop top, B." Rolling my eyes, I laugh. "I'm glad you think so. Let's hope Cullen agrees. Help me up onto the keg, and I swear to god if you let me flash anyone I'll put a bullet in your dick."

I wasn't vain, but I knew I looked good and I wasn't against using what I had to in order to catch Edwards attention. Hours spent in the gym training had sharpened my muscles and toned my stomach, but I'd always been careful not to pass the line between hard and soft. Life was easier when people thought I was an innocent, demure girl who couldn't hold her own in a fight. Shaking out my hair, I pull Jasper up to the keg and wait for him to drop my sweater on the ground beside us before placing my palms on either side of the metal handles and gripping them tightly. I could easily pull myself up and maintain balance for as long as I needed on my own, but the people of Forks didn't need to know that. Instead, I swung my legs up into a handstand and Jasper grabbed my waist from behind, his hands against my rib cage doing more to hold my shirt in place than to steady me. "Hey, Yorkie! Give me the hose?" I'd interrupted his conversation with Edward, but that's exactly what I had intended. My eyes briefly met his as an "Oh, shit… Bella's doing a KEG STAND!" was shouted and Mike pumped his fist in the air, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at Jasper and I. Breaking my eye contact with Edward, I grin as Eric surges forward and pops the kegs nozzle into my mouth, pressing the tab down before I fully have my lips wrapped around it.

The beer is just as nasty as I remember it being, the liquid not at all chilled. A trash can filled with ice would've solved that problem, but I was momentarily grateful I wasn't chugging freezing beer down my throat as the crowd circled around and counted my time in a typical chanting fashion. The cheers were getting louder and Jasper squeezed my ribs, his way of telling me this charade had accomplished what I'd aimed for it to accomplish with a subtle reminder not to over do it tacked on for good measure. Spitting the nozzle out of my mouth, I suck in a breath as I push my legs forward and gracefully land on my feet, my face breaking out into a smile as I lean forward and wrap my arms around Jasper. Pressing a kiss against his cheek, I step out of the way and speak low enough that the crowd cheering Mike onto the keg doesn't hear. "Thanks, Jay. He take the bait?" Chuckling his slow chuckle, Jasper bends down and hands me my sweater. "If the look I'm getting right now is any indication, I'd say he's interested, B. Tanya stormed off halfway through your show." Ah, Tanya. That was the redheads name. "Speak of the devil..." Stiffening, I misinterpret his words and spin around, prepared to finally come face to face with Edward. Instead, I bite back my grin as Tanya pushes her way through the crowd and yanks the hose away from Newton. Her words are a growl directed at Edward, "Help me up." When he shakes his head and bows out, his gaze flicking to me as she stomps her foot and glares at Mike. "You better not drop me." Ten seconds later he does exactly that, and I hide my face in Jaspers shoulder to muffle my laughter as she spits and froths at the mouth, struggling to get off the sticky ground in her too-high high heels and taking down Lauren with her. Catching Jaspers arm, I tilt my head towards the door and he nods in agreement. We'd succeeded for the night; I'd caught Edwards attention and Monday morning he'd be back at school. Nobody seems to notice our exit, too caught up in the shit show happening in front of the keg, but a glance over my shoulder has me locking eyes with Cullen one last time before the door shuts between us, his face blank as he watches us leave.

Perhaps he wasn't as unobservant as I'd originally thought.

—

 **Reviews make me type faster**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: We do not own twilight. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the authors. The authors are in no way associated or affiliated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended**_

 _ **A Firefly Story**_

BPOV

Slamming my tray down on the cafeteria table, I huff, prompting Jasper to crack a grin and let a chuckle slip through his lips. Shooting him a look, I sit down, angrily biting down on a carrot before pointing it in his direction. "This isn't funny. We have a deadline and we've gotten nowhere in the two weeks we've been here." It was Thursday and despite what I thought would captivate Edwards attention last Saturday, he had no reaction to seeing me on Monday morning. The guy was infuriating. Nothing I did seemed to work. I'd dressed to kill, in a nonliteral form of the term, with leather pants that hugged every dip and curve of my legs and a shirt that showed off far more cleavage than should be allowed in high school. People noticed, they stumbled and gaped, and by the end of the day I had three offers from guys asking to take me out and a math teacher that stared too hard when I passed him in the hallway. None of which were Edward Cullen.

I'd changed tactics, determined to make him jealous instead. I knew he'd noticed me, and when we passed each other in the hallway he had no problem checking me out, his eyes lingering in places that I would've found offensive had I not been putting myself on display for that very reason. So I waited, humoring Mike in a conversation I was in no way paying attention to until Jasper gave me the signal that Edward was coming out of his Spanish class. Grabbing Mikes jacket, I'd slammed him up against the lockers and pulled his lips to mine. I waited for him to do something, anything, but his mouth refused to move until mine did. He was a sloppy kisser, his tongue overly eager and his palms sweaty with nerves. He didn't know what he was doing and his teeth clashed against mine so much that when I pulled back and wiped my hand across my mouth, I shook my head and walked away without a word, suddenly grateful for the small bottle of mouthwash I kept in my backpack. He stayed there, his eyes dazed and unfocused as I walked away. Linking my arm with Jaspers, I'd turned to face him expectantly. Shaking his head, he leaned in to whisper. "Just a brow quirk. Didn't seem to bother him much."

And that was how every attempt went; Nothing was working. Groaning, I slump forward and pop the rest of my carrot into my mouth as I think. "Maybe we're going about this wrong, Jay. You should hit him up for drugs. Nothing hard, but maybe a little weed?" He shrugs and drops his slice of pizza before replying, "B, I told you from the beginning your plan wouldn't work. The guy isn't desperate for ass. There are plenty of willing participants around him, and whether you're fresh meat or not doesn't matter if he has to work for it." Grumbling, I change the topic to something menial as we finish our lunch and trek through the day agitated and ready to go home.

The final bell comes as a saving grace and I make a note to thank Uncle Aro for not putting me through the tedious torture that was public school. Instead, Jasper and I had been home schooled by a woman who taught us far more than the establishment of Forks High ever could. Leaning against my car, I cross my arms and wait. It doesn't take long before Edward is pushing through the double doors that lead to the student parking lot, and not ten feet behind him is Jaspers lazy gait. Blowing air out of my cheeks, I'm distracted from the encounter as Newton steps up beside me, his hand reaching for my face. Frowning, I step back, breaking my gaze from the sight of Jasper and Edward coming to a stop together as I turn to face Mike. "Aw, baby, don't be like that." Lifting a brow, I shake my head and grit my teeth. "Baby? Listen, Mike… I've been thinking. I don't think this is going to work out." He stares at me for a moment, and I take the chance to glance over my shoulder at Jasper. He isn't where I last saw him, and my eyes scan the parking lot until I find him two cars over standing beside Edwards Volvo. "….I thought what we had was special." Snapping my head back to Mike, I bite my cheek. "It isn't, Mike, but hey, Jessica seems interested in you. You should give her a chance."

Without waiting for a response, I leave Newton dumbfounded and slip into the drivers seat of my car. Tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, I stretch my neck until I catch a glimpse of Cullens front bumper and watch as Jasper makes his way towards me. I'm beyond irritated that I'd missed the entire transaction, a fact that Jasper picks up on as he settles himself in the passenger seat beside me. He'd always been able to pick up on my emotions.

"Chill, B. He gave me a bag and his phone number for next time." Relaxing in my seat, I let out a laugh and reach over to shove Jaspers arm. "Hey, maybe he's gay. You got his number a hell of a lot faster than I did." Scoffing, he tosses the baggie of weed into the glove box. "I don't know about that. He seemed awfully pleased when he heard you shut Mike down."

 **CarlislePOV**

The rhythmic tapping of a pen hitting wood pulls my eyes from the stack of money in front of me, and despite the fact that my face is void of emotion, my message comes across clear. "Sorry boss." The quick response doesn't do much to quell my irritation, but his nervous fidgeting is warranted. The man may be an idiot, but even an idiot knows when their life is in danger. "You're short." My voice is clipped, my irritation finally slipping through. Riley here was on his last leg. Literally. I'd already blown a hole through his kneecap due to an unfortunate mix up with a shipment at the docks a few months back. Suffice to say the man wasn't placed in any significant situations anymore. In fact, I'd given him a backpack filled with crank and directed him to Port Angeles with a deadline.

The lowest of the low were out there peddling our drugs, but Riley never said a word about his sudden drop in rank. A smart move on his part, because his breath was already limited to begin with. He knew he fucked up, and I knew that the chances of him actually coming back to me with a roll of cash that equated to the amount of speed in his Jansport was pretty fucking slim. "Yeah, Boss, I know, but listen." My eyes slide to Alec the moment the words slip from Rileys mouth and his fate is sealed. The kid is denser than I ever gave him credit for. "I don't think I'm really cut out for the dealing business, ya know? I mean, I've got a limp that can rival — Hey, what're you — No! Boss, I can get your money, just give me — "

I tune out the screaming and pick up the meager stack of cash on my desk. "Alright, boys. I'm out of here. Have Felix take care of him for me." Stepping out of my office, I cast a glance around the strip joint, briefly talking in the people around me before walking out. I had two suits behind me, but I didn't trust anyone with my life. Especially not to the extent that I wasn't aware of my surroundings. Too many people in this business had made that mistake and payed for it with their blood. My father, for instance. He buried his secrets but he should have checked for a pulse, and when the truth about my sisters disappearance came out, I happily put all of the training he'd instilled in me to good use. The outfit hadn't had its fingers in human trafficking since. "We're here, Boss."

My door opens and I stand, my hands instinctively reaching to button my jacket as I look around. An old friend was having a get together tonight and a little bird told me it would be in my best interest to stop by. It seems as if someone was under the impression that I was easily fooled, and my mere presence tonight would put that to a stop. Making my way up the steps, I don't bother knocking and instead let myself in, my two shadows following behind me as I walk towards the voices that are echoing throughout the hall. "He needs to go. They've been on top long enough and the greedy bastards would never expect it. Not from us." My mouth twitches up into a smirk and I briefly make a note to reward my little bird for the tip. Before my thought is complete a gunshot rings out from behind me and Afton slumps forward in his chair. Theres a mingle of gasps and a single woman screams out before its muffled and the room falls silent.

Clicking my tongue, I turn towards the man beside me. "Alec. That wasn't very nice. We're guests and now you've made a mess." Alec shrugs, a smile on his lips that is neither worried nor apologetic. He knows me well enough to understand that I wasn't really reprimanding him. "Sorry, Boss. I got a new piece and the trigger is a bit more sensitive than I thought. Won't happen again." Nodding, I unbutton my jacket and sit down in the only seat that has a wall behind it, a boxy white recliner that is spared from the spray of blood on the other side of the room, my posture the picture of ease as I lift my ankle and rest it on my knee. "I was never really a fan of Afton anyways, Alec. I can't, for the life of me, understand why my father made him a wiseguy. He always seemed more like a babbo to me. No loyalty. Put him in the trunk and have him sent to the boys. They know how to handle traitors."

A small whimper has me looking across the room and my gaze settles on a woman who I know to be Afton's wife. "Is there a problem, Chelsea?" Her lips part and I know what she wants to say. Afton was a made man. He deserves to be buried as a made man and his family deserves to be taken care of as if they were the family of a made man. Unfortunately, the man ruined that just moments before he died. "No, sir. I'm sorry." Humming, I lean back in my chair as Alec and Demetri haul the body from the room, a still silence settling over us. My ring taps against the arm of the chair to break the quiet and I meet the eyes of the four men sitting around me one by one until they all drop their gazes. "So whose idea was this little get together?" My voice is cheery, but the smell of blood and the sniffling from Chelsea in the corner takes away from the false emotion. Caius shifts in his seat and answers too quickly, and I instinctively know that he's the one behind this. Afton was always more of the following type, and Caius is getting old enough that he thinks he's entitled to more control. "Afton, boss. We were gonna tell you all about it tomorrow." I stare at him, my expression empty as he shifts in his seat again before looking away and barking at someone across the room to take the attention off of him. "Esme! Boss, have you met my daughter? Get him a drink, girl." A small brunette in a short red dress stands and very visibly bites back a witty remark towards her father before directing her attention towards me. "Sir? Can I get you something to drink?" A small smirk toys at my lips and I cock my head in thought. "No, I can't say that we've met. Scotch. Neat. With a shot of honey on the side." She blinks twice, her forehead crinkling in thought before she nods and walks away. "Don't let me interrupt your evening, gentleman. Please, by all means, continue your conversation."

Caius briefly glances at the man beside him, an unmistakable warning, before turning towards Chelsea. "Will you get Heidi in here to clean up this mess? Your husband is staining my rug." Chelsea lets out a sob and runs from the room, nearly colliding with Alec who gives me a small nod and moves to stand against the wall. "Sir?" My attention is once again diverted to Esme, and I bite back a chuckle as she chews on her lip and holds out a glass of scotch. "I'm afraid we don't have any honey." Taking the proffered glass, I swirl the liquid and drag my eyes down Esmes body. I put her in her early twenties, but I wasn't entirely sure of her age. "No honey? Hmm." The murmurings of conversations start up, and I vaguely pay attention to Eleazar as he rambles on about his winnings at a casino across town, but I'm acutely aware of the fact that Caius' attention is focused on my interaction with his daughter. Exactly where I want it to be. "I suppose I'll just have to find a substitute." Lifting my hand, I reach out and slowly slide my fingertips up his daughters inner thigh. Her sharp gasp is audible, and I watch as she whips her head around and seeks out her father whose fists have turned white. He gives a subtle shake of his head, and I chuckle.

These men were careless. They should have known not to allow women in the room while business was being discussed, and they sure as fuck should have known it would get back to me. It was widely known that Aros confidant, Renata, was the only exception to that rule. Hooking a finger beneath the silky fabric of Esme's panties, my knuckle brushes against her soft lips as I tug, pulling the scrap of material down until it falls at her feet without my assistance. Sliding my hand back up, I slip a finger through her folds before glancing up and meeting the girls mirthful eyes. She was staring straight at me, not a trace of fear in her eyes, but her breath was uneven and her pussy was wet, so I took her stance as her silent permission to piss Caius off. I may have been twice her age but my reputation made up for it. Slipping a finger inside of her warmth, I meet Caius' stare and slowly curl it against her walls. Esme doesn't bother being quiet, and a soft "Oh, god." falls from her lips as she arches forward, her hands coming down on the armrest of my chair to support her weight. Retracting my hand, I stir the finger that was just inside of her in my glass of scotch before bringing the tumbler to my lips and taking a sip. "I thought you said you didn't have any honey, Dolcé." Running my scotch soaked finger across her lips, I smirk as her tongue darts out for a taste, distinctly aware of how quiet the room has become during my little display. "Forgive me, Sir." Her voice is soft and sweet, and I reach out to palm her ass and slip my fingers back into the warmth of her pussy that I'd yet to see but suddenly craved the taste of. "I think my drink needs a little more than that." A sound interrupts me, and I look up to see Caius standing from his chair, his hands balled into fists and his jaw clenched as he turns to leave the room. The cocking of a gun behind me has him stopping in his tracks and as I turn my face back to Esme, a smile on my lips as she writhes beneath my touch. "Caius. I don't believe I gave you permission to leave. Sit down and watch your little girl get me my drink, just as you told her to."

Thirty minutes later I find myself in the back of my car, Alec behind the wheel and Esme beside me. I'd extended an invitation to the girl and she'd happily accepted, much to the dismay of her father, something that I found endlessly amusing. Pulling her into my lap, I nip at her ear, a grin tugging at my lips. "How old are you, Esme?" She giggles, her breath fanning over my chin just before she presses her lips to it. "Twenty five. I'm legal." A tug of her hair has her neck exposed, and I easily chuckle against it as I speak. "Dolcé, legalities have never stopped me from anything else." The vibration of my phone has me pushing Esme off before my sentence is complete, my hand reaching into my suit pocket and extracting the device that once drove Elizabeth mad. Shaking my head at the thought, I bark out my name into the device, "Carlisle." My carefree mood evaporates as Billy Black fills me in on a situation with the gun shipment on the Reservation, and I let out an audible breath as I realize my night isn't going to play out the way I'd originally intended. Ending the call rather quickly, I lean my head back against the headrest, my eyes falling shut in aggravation.

This should be Aro's shit to deal with, not mine, but I already knew how that call would go. I wouldn't mind so much if I hadn't driven down to Port Angeles last week to see Jane, not that she had anything insightful to say. That was another thing that wasn't my responsibility, but I made it a point to do Janes drops myself because she dealt directly with Edward, and regardless of what he thought about me I wanted to make sure he wasn't dealing with people that would land his ass in a jail cell. A hand brushing across mine stirs me from my thoughts and I open my eyes, dragging them down Esme's body with a smirk. "How would you like to meet my son?"

— **-**

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	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer: We do not own twilight. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the authors. The authors are in no way associated or affiliated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

 _ **A Firefly Story**_

 **EPOV**

" _Did you make that for me?" Smiling sheepishly, I kick my toe against the tiled floor, my eyes cast downward as I hold out the cupcake. Mom and I had spent all morning baking them, but she'd let me decorate them by myself when Dad came home. I could hear them arguing in the next room, Dads voice loud and angry as he reminded Mom that he had work to do and and no time for silly games. I put two eyeballs on my cupcake and frowned, wondering if I would have time for silly games when I grew up. I liked making cupcakes with Mom, and if it was a silly game, then I liked those too. She knelt before me, gently taking the cupcake out of my hand. Sprinkles still fell on the floor, I think I might have put too much, but she didn't seem to mind as she looked down at the smiling sun I'd drawn with frosting. Mom always called me her Sunshine. "It's perfect, Edward. Can I keep it forever?" Giggling, I shake my head. Mommy was silly. Didn't she know that the sugar bugs would get it if she didn't eat it?_

 _The image swirls in my mind, only to be replaced with another._

" _Edward! Focus. You need to learn how to protect yourself. I'm not always going to be here to hold your hand, and the world is a cruel place. If you don't strike first, it will." Biting my quivering lip, I take a deep breath and nod. Dad was right. He always was. I needed to be a big boy and stop playing games. Big boys did this all the time, daddy said so himself, and daddies never lie. Eric told me so. Scrunching my brow, I look down at the pieces in front of me, struggling hard to remember exactly what Dad had shown me. He'd moved so quickly that it was hard to keep up with what he had done. I just wanted to get it right for him. Reaching for the long skinny piece, I glance around at the other pieces of metal. I knew this one. It was my favorite because Dad called it a slide and I loved when Mom took me to the park. Slides were always my favorite; I liked to go fast. I think the swirly piece went in this one. Or maybe it was the barrel. I knew that one, too. The barrel was dads favorite piece but I wasn't sure why. He said he'd tell me when I was older. Oh! I got it. It was like a puzzle, and the swirly piece slid into the circle hole easily. Smiling, I look up at Dad only to see him pinching the bridge of his nose. He did that when he didn't like something. Frowning, I look back and forth between the disassembled gun and my dad, trying to figure out what was wrong. "Edward, you need to try harder. I can do this in ten seconds and it's taken you three minutes just to get one piece. I know you're better—" He's cut off by the Moms voice as she pushes open Dads office door. "Carlisle! He's five! Don't you think he's a little young to be learning about weapons? I swear it's like you never wanted a son, you wanted—"_

Gasping, I wrench my eyes open and sit up, my hand rubbing at my chest as the other fists the sheets beside me. It takes a few deep breaths and a moment of clarity before I scramble out of the bed, my feet getting tangled in the sheets and causing me to fall ass first on the unforgiving wooden floor. A glass crashes down beside me and shatters. I flinch at the sound, momentarily grateful that it hadn't hit the floor before I had. Groaning, I drop my head against the ground and stare unseeingly at the ceiling. I don't know how long I stay there, working to keep my mind blank and wash away the memories that plagued my dreams, but when I roll over the sun is streaming through my window and I decide to lay there for a little while longer and watch the light play off of the broken glass. It was one of those fancy crystal cups that my mother liked to keep around, and the design etched into the glass was casting rainbows across the room. Kicking the sheets off, I let loose an audible sigh and bring my knees to my chest, desperately in need of a cigarette. I spot my pack on the nightstand and pull myself up to grab them before yanking on yesterday's jeans and making my way to the balcony, blatantly refusing to go anywhere near my bed again. It isn't until the cigarette is between my lips and I'm three drags in that I'm calm enough to realize that there's a note tucked into the cellophane blocking the Marlboro logo.

 _(206) 623-0183_

 _This is all you've gotta do._

 _Tanya_

Exhaling a cloud of smoke, I drop my head down and close my eyes, wishing for just a moment that she'd stayed. It wasn't that I was in love with Tanya. Hell, far from that. I'd never loved anybody but my mother, and it'd been a long time since those words fell from my lips. I didn't expect them to reappear anytime soon. No, it was just that Tanya understood my limits. She knew when to push and when to pull back, knew how far to take it before I'd had enough. She knew she wasn't the only girl I spent my time with, but she was damn sure the only one that had slept in my bed. That was enough for her. She left her number but she knew I already had it. It was her subtle way of saying she was there if I wanted to talk, and my fingers squeezed down on my pack before I could think the action through. Fuck only knows what she'd seen or heard last night that would prompt her do that. I instantly decided that it would be a long while before I saw Tanya again, and even longer still before I let her back in my bed.

 _I was just so sick of waking up alone._

This house was empty so often that even I didn't want to be here. _It hadn't been a home since_ … Groaning, I flick the butt of my cigarette into the flower pot on the ledge. Heaven forbid dear old dad find one on the lawn he visits twice a year. Uncrumpling my hand, I look down at the mess of tobacco and the crushed pack in my palm, internally berating myself for ruining the last cigarettes I had. Spinning on my heel, I step inside and drop the mess of shit in my hand in the trash can beside my bed. Reaching my hand in my pocket and palming my keys, I swipe a shirt from my closet and my leather jacket from my desk. Blindly taking the stairs, I yank the shirt over my head and shove my feet into the over priced boots sitting beside the door. It isn't until I'm outside and slipping my arms through the sleeves of my jacket that I realize my Volvo is missing.

Resisting the urge to punch something, I tilt my head back and stare at the sky. _Today was not my day._ Last night I'd been too high to drive and I sure as fuck wasn't letting Tanya behind the wheel of my car, so I'd hitched a ride with her. It wasn't the first time I'd left my car somewhere and had to walk and retrieve it the next day, but doing so without any cigarettes to keep me company sounded like my own personal brand of hell. Deciding not to prolong the agony, I step off the porch and make my way down the ridiculously long driveway that led to my house. There was a short cut halfway up it; a well beaten path that broke off to the right and traipsed through the forest. It came out half a mile away from town, which sounded a hell of a lot better than the mile it would take if I bypassed it. It doesn't take me long to realize that the once worn trail is overgrown, though I shouldn't be surprised. I avoided this route as much as possible, not wanting to see the gazebo about thirty yards in. Memories of picnics on the rare sunny days and lights strung across the top on rainy ones flashed through my mind as I passed it. The thing was covered in moss and vines, the weather having taken its toll when my mother was no longer here to maintain the upkeep. Elizabeth Cullen loved the sound of the rain and when the mood struck, she'd pull me from the house with that secret smile of hers and we'd lay in the middle of the gazebo floor and listen to it for hours.

Shoving my hands in my jacket pockets, I turn my head away from the worn down wood and pick up the pace of my footsteps as rain starts to bear down on me in a typical Forks fashion. Fifteen minutes later I break through the tree branches that lead up to the main road, the rain still coming down with vengeance. "Fuck." Catching myself on a tree, I wince as my palm is torn up against the bark. Turning to scowl at the log that had tripped me, I rear my leg back and kick it, a feat that did nothing for my pride and sent an ache through my toes.

"Edward?" Directing my irritated gaze towards the sound of my name, I take in the sight of Isabella Swan sitting in the driver seat of her car, the passenger window rolled down and her body leaning over the center console towards me. "You alright?"

I'd yet to actually speak to the girl and was mildly surprised that she'd noticed me through the downpour, let alone stopped. "Just peachy." Pushing off of the tree, I wipe my palms against my jeans, ignoring the sting of the scrapes.

"What'd the wood do to piss you off so much?" Narrowing my eyes, I don't bother replying and instead move up the small embankment and walk past Isabella's car. I didn't even know the girl, I sure as hell didn't owe her any explanations. I'd noticed her, of course. Who hadn't? Forks was small enough that everybody knew everybody, and Isabella Swan was fresh meat. I wasn't interested in meeting anyone new. I had enough shit to worry about without playing nice to strangers. Sure, she was hot, but in three months I'd graduate and be out of this town for good. Isabella seemed like the kind of girl that you took home to meet the parents, despite her proclivity for tight clothes and low cut shirts, and I had no intentions of getting in deep with anyone. Ever. Rumor had it that Newton and the guys had placed bets on who could snag her first, and I wasn't interested in ruining their fun for a pretty face and a lousy fuck. I didn't need the bullshit that came with Forks' shiny new toy. My money had been on Newton after I'd caught a glimpse of them making out against Jessica Stanley's locker, but I'd heard her shoot him down afterwards. Maybe she was just a cock tease.

I'd gotten less than twenty feet from her car before Isabella pulled up beside me again. "Hey, wait. I wasn't trying to be a bitch." She screamed out her window, the rain dying down midway through her sentence and allowing the word "bitch" to sound out louder than she'd intended.

My lips involuntarily twitch up at the corner, and I shake water from my hair as I continue walking. "Don't worry about it, Isabella. It takes a hell of a lot more than that to offend me." Waving her off, I pull my lighter from my pocket and absentmindedly twirl it between my fingers as I walk. It wasn't much farther, I'd left my car at Tyler Crowley's place. "It's Bella."

Turning to face the car that was once again right beside me, I lift a brow in question. "What?" Her car was creeping next to me, keeping pace with my boots as they splashed against the asphalt.

"My name. Bella, not Isabella. Do you need a ride?" Laughing, I stop walking and am unsurprised when Isabella hits her breaks and jerks to a stop. "No, I don't need a ride. I'm drenched and your car is easily worth, what? Sixty grand? I'm not going far and I wouldn't even be out here if it wasn't for my dire need of nicotine." Shaking my head, I flick my lighter and continue walking. "I don't care about my seats, Edward. Just get in the car." I don't answer, my lighter twirling through my fingers as I stare at her. It takes two minutes and forty three seconds before her shoulders slump and she sighs. "Fine. At least take these." Rummaging through her glovebox, my eyebrow quirks up as I see the bag of weed I'd sold jasper tucked inside. It was still untouched. Filing that tidbit of information away, I'm surprised when Isabella shoves a pack of Marlboro Reds in my hand. Pulling one to my lips, I click my lighter and look up as she drives away.

Slipping the pack into my pocket, I look after her Audi as it turns the corner, belatedly realizing I should've thanked her. My walk would be much less aggravating with a cancer stick pressed between my lips. I'd never seen Isabella smoke, not that I'd paid much attention, but the pack was nearly full and exactly my brand of choice. I pondered over that and the untouched bag of weed as I made my way to Tyler's place. Maybe they were Jaspers.

It wasn't long before I was behind the wheel of my Volvo, the heaters blasting to warm the wet clothes that still clung to my skin. I was grateful that my jacket had spared my shirt, but my jeans were another story. I winced as they squeaked against my leather seats, but there wasn't much I could do about it. Pulling into Waylands joint, I kill the engine and shock keeps me in place as I spot my fathers car on the other side of the parking lot. Beside it, Jasper stood, nodding and rubbing the back of his neck as he listened to whatever it was that was being said. As if sensing that someone was watching him, Jasper looked up, his eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before his lips move and Carlisle's door opens. Stepping from my Volvo, I pull out another one of Isabella's cigarettes and light it before he reaches me. When I look up, Jasper is nowhere to be seen and the woman in Carlisle's back seat is openly staring at us.

Blowing smoke in his direction, I smirk. "Nice to know you're in town, Pops. I didn't know you knew Whitlock. Small world, huh?" Carlisle doesn't reply, instead choosing to pull the cigarette from between my lips and drop it to the ground. His black loafer steps on it and I frown, glancing down and the flattened paper and tobacco. "That's not nice, Carlisle. It was a gift." He stills as I say his name, and my smirk grows. My father hates it when I call him by his name. He considered it a _privilege_ for people to address him as Carlisle, and I'd never been worthy of much of anything in his eyes.

"You shouldn't smoke. That shit will kill you, Son." _Well if that wasn't the pot calling the kettle black._ "I'm in town for business. I'll be staying at the house for a few days, as will my… uh, _friend."_ Turning my head in disgust, I spit on the ground beside him and step towards the store. "You do whatever you need to do, Dad. I'm sure Mom will roll over in her grave the moment you bring a whore into her bed. If you can live with that, so can I." Spinning to face him, I offer Carlisle a mock salute as I reach behind me and grab the door handle. The expression on his face lets me know that if I wasn't his son, and this wasn't so public, there'd be a bullet in my head for that remark. "Welcome home, Carlisle. Always a pleasure."

The bell above the door jingles as I step inside and buy two packs of cigarettes. One for me and one for Isabella. I wasn't the kind of guy that liked owing anyone anything, and maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to make friends with the new girl. Something was obviously going on between Jasper and my father, and if I had to guess, Isabella Swan was in on it.

—

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	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer: We do not own twilight. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the authors. The authors are in no way associated or affiliated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

 **EPOV**

I wasn't looking forward to going home. I didn't want to be trapped in a house with my father for any longer than necessary. I should be grateful that I ran into him at Waylon's; It gave me a heads up to stay the fuck away from home. I wasn't in any hurry to get back to my bed anytime soon, either. I could do without the memories that have been plaguing my dreams lately. I'd love to know what triggered those so I could light that shit on fire, as a thank you. Instead, I found myself in a familiar worn down vinyl booth at the diner in town. It was past what should've been closing time, but Forks' Diner was the one place around town that never closed. Mrs. Cope didn't want to go home to her empty five bedroom house. She'd never been able to fill the rooms with children, and she didn't like the reminders of what she once wished her life would be.

Mrs. Cope had been close with my mother, and regardless of my brooding and dismissive ways, she never stopped fighting to break down my walls. There was a period of time that I avoided the diner just so I wouldn't have to face her, but the old lady had no qualms about tracking me down to check on me. I'd learned it was easier to just give in. She was the closest thing to a mother figure I had these days, so I made it a point to visit her often enough that she wouldn't worry. It was the least I could do for all the shit I managed to put her through. The woman felt she owed it to my mother to look after me, and I didn't have the heart to tell her that it was a lost cause.

"Edward, honey. You look like you could use some hot cocoa. Give me just a minute to deal with Mr. Mallory and I'll be right back." Looking up, I glance across the diner and see the only other person in this place, aside from the guy clinging pots around in the kitchen. Lauren's dad is grumbling to himself over a cup of coffee, his face set into the telltale scowl that fixated on his face every time he had a few too many drinks. He was swaying, his ass not entirely sure if it wanted to stay on the stool or not and his head slumped forward as if it took too much effort to hold it up himself. It was widely known throughout Forks that Mr. Mallory was a drunk, and a mean one at that. The only bar in town was across the street and they liked to send those who weren't quite fit to drive over for a cup of coffee at closing time instead of calling the town Sheriff for a ride. It wasn't good for business if the few customers around all ended up in jail cells after a night of over indulgence. I was hardly one to advocate for law enforcement, but Mrs. Cope shouldn't have to deal with the assholes herself.

Reaching out, I grab her hand before she can walk away. "Shelly," I very rarely addressed her by her first name, but I wanted the infuriating woman to know that I was serious. "You know how Mr. Mallory is. Let me get rid of him for you." Her laughter comes as no surprise, and I frown as she pats my hand on top of hers and gives my fingers a small squeeze.

"You're right, Son. I do know how Mr. Mallory is. It's not the first time he's come in here off his rockers, and it won't be the last. He's been well mannered tonight, boy, and you'll just rile him up. Don't you worry about me, Edward. I may be old but I've still got some fight left in these bones."

With a wink, she's gone, and I'm left frowning after her as she holds up an empty coffee pot in front of Mr. Mallory with a pout that looks utterly ridiculous on her face. The damn drunk actually believes that the diner is out of coffee, and when he angrily slams his fist on the counter, I'm at the edge of my booth and ready to intervene. Lucky for him, headlights flash across the diner windows and not fifteen seconds later Lauren comes flouncing through the diner doors. Her blonde hair is tied up in a messy bun and the thin pajama pants she's wearing are haphazardly shoved into her boots and soaked through with rainwater. I know from experience that her parka isn't making up for the cold bite of Washingtons weather against the thin material clinging to her legs, and it's obvious that she left the house in a rush. Lauren doesn't see me tucked into the booth I'm in as she tries to pay Mrs. Cope for her fathers coffee, and I'm grateful that I remain unnoticed as she drags Mr. Mallory out into the rain. Before the door is closed behind them, Mrs. Cope is sitting across from me, a cup of hot chocolate in front of us both, but I wait until Lauren's headlights pull away before turning to address her. "I don't know how you do it. You shouldn't have to deal with that, Mrs. Cope."

She shakes her head, her eyes full of mirth as she stares at me over the rim of her coffee cup. "You know as well as I do that I called that girl the moment I saw her daddy stumbling across Main Street, Edward. I can give the man a cup of coffee and listen to his insults for the twenty minutes it takes a sober Mallory to show up here and get rid of him."

Exhaling into my hot chocolate, I roll my eyes. "At least make the fucker pay for his coffee next time." Mrs. Cope laughs, but I know she never will. Shelly Cope had plenty of money, and if she hadn't, my mother would've seen to it that she did. Mrs. Cope used to babysit my mother, but they were more like sisters than anything else, and while my mom was off in Seattle with Carlisle, Shelly met a man and fell in love herself. Henry Cope was a good hearted man that came from old money, and when he died in a car accident two years before my mother's death, Shelly bought the diner and kept herself busy by taking on the townspeople's problems and ignoring her own. She didn't feel right taking money from people that didn't have much, and the Mallory's fell into that category. _Likely because Mr. Mallory drank away his paychecks. "_ That's enough about that. What's got that angry look in your eye today?"

Staring into my cup of hot chocolate, I dip a finger into the whip cream and lick it off as I debate not answering. In the end, I know she'll get it out of me, so I grit my teeth and wonder why I came here of all places tonight. "My _father_ is in town." I say the words with as much venom as I can muster, and I don't look up as Mrs. Cope sits back in her seat and stares at me. Shelly was the only person in Forks that I knew of that was clued into Carlisle's business, and as long as I'd known her she had never looked down on him for it, despite her high morals.

The only time her and my mother ever fought was over Carlisle, but after her death, Mrs. Cope seemed to lose her anger over my fathers work and had tried to defend his actions to me on more than one occasion. In the beginning, she would tell me stories about how in love my parents were, how much my mother adored Carlisle and how he worshipped the ground that Elizabeth walked on, but that wasn't how I remembered my childhood. The only times I recalled my parents together were filled with anger and arguments over how I should be raised. Mrs. Cope had long since given up on trying to persuade me otherwise; She knew it was a topic I refused to budge on, and one that often ended with me storming out of the diner. "I assume he isn't staying for long?"

Scoffing, I look up and meet her eyes. "Does he ever?" Mrs. Cope frowns and shakes her head.

"Your father is a lost and troubled man these days, Edward, fighting a battle that neither of us can fully understand. That doesn't give him an excuse for how he's treated you, but… One day he'll look back and see that you've grown up without him. That he missed everything, and Elizabeth would be ashamed to hear it. One day he'll realize, Edward, that you're everything your mother hoped you would be."

Before I can reply, not that I knew what to say when Mrs. Cope said shit like that, the annoying bell above the door chimes and Isabella Swan walks in. It takes her a minute to notice us, her concentration focused on wiping her boots on the floor mat and pulling the hood off of her head, but when she does, her eyes light up in a way that should scare me. Isabella looked determined, and I knew without a doubt that she was in on whatever the fuck was going on between Jasper and Carlisle, and that it had something to do with me.

Keeping my face void of emotion, I meet her stare for a moment, only breaking it when she begins to walk towards us. "Can you give us a minute, Mrs. Cope?" I say the words softly, but Shelly knows me better than that. She slides out of the booth with practiced ease, her empty mug of hot chocolate in her hand, but before she walks away she pulls a towel out of her apron and smacks me in the arm with it.

"You be nice to her, Edward." Rolling my eyes with a smile, I watch her leave before turning to face Isabella. The smile drops from my face as she slides into Mrs. Cope's spot and drops her coat beside her, and I keep my mouth shut and choose to watch her over the rim of my cup instead of breaking the silence.

Her brown hair is messy despite her attempts to fix it at the door, a result of the hood of her coat rubbing against it, I'm sure. It tells me that she'd worn it for awhile, likely because she'd walked here rather than driven. It didn't escape my notice that headlights hadn't flashed across the diner windows before her entrance. Her cheeks were flushed and her nose red with chill, and the blue sweater she was wearing hugged her curves in a way that —

"So, you do smile." Flicking my eyes up to hers, I mentally berate myself for ogling the girl.

"What?" My voice is rough, and I clear it as I sit my empty mug on the table between us. Isabella tilts her head in Mrs. Cope's direction, but I don't bother looking. I know what she meant. "Mrs. Cope is a nice woman, and unlike some people, she's not consorting with my father about me." Isabella stares at me for what feels like minutes, and I'm sure would've been much longer had Mrs. Cope not stopped to drop off two mugs of hot chocolate. Breaking Isabella's gaze, I smile up at Mrs. Cope and politely thank her as Isabella slumps in her seat.

"Jasper was right." Lifting a brow, I turn my attention back to the girl sitting across from me as Shelly makes herself busy at the register. I wasn't fooled; The old bat was listening to every word.

"About what?" Shaking her head, Isabella leans forward on her elbows, and I immediately wish the table was wider and she wasn't so close. I didn't trust Isabella Swan as far as I could throw her.

"He said you wouldn't fall for this. Carlisle should've known better, you know? He taught you himself. You're much more observant than he gives you credit for."

Scoffing, I laugh into my hot chocolate. "Isabella, my father is playing you both. He knew I'd catch on to you two, and if I hadn't it would've just proven to him that I'm not worth the effort. Carlisle often underestimates me, but not so much that he'd think I'd fall for a pretty girl just because she smiled at me. What, are you supposed to get me to fall in love with you?" I chuckled darkly to myself, through loose breath before I met the eyes of the intrigued girl sitting across from me.

"Look, it's three months until I graduate and four until I turn eighteen. I assume that's the deadline, right? Carlisle made it clear from a young age that my eighteenth birthday would come with big decisions."

Shaking my head, I turn to look out the window and chuckle as Mrs. Cope slams the register shut. Shelly could handle a lot of things, but my father sending a girl to catch my heart for him was one that she would never get behind. Mrs. Cope was a hopeless romantic and _love_ was something that she took seriously. She was likely more offended by his actions than I was. I'd had years to learn that my father had no qualms with using everything he could to get his way.

"That bastard." Crossing her arms, Isabella leans back into the vinyl booth and glares at me. "He made me into a fool, didn't he? You knew something was up before you ever saw Jasper."

Shrugging, I don't answer. I knew something was going on, even if I didn't know it involved Jasper and Isabella until that moment, but I wasn't opposed to making her think I was able to pick up on shit quicker than I was. It'd keep her on her toes and make her paranoid if she tried to play me in the future. Paranoid people were far easier to break down.

Licking my lips, I lean forward and whisper, "He didn't tell you? I can read minds." She swings her fist out to swat at my arm, but I pull back with a chuckle before she comes close.

"You're an asshole." I was kidding, of course, but fuck if that wouldn't make my life a hell of a lot easier.

Tilting my head in acknowledgement, I smirk. "It's about time you realize that, Isabella. I am, after all, a product of Carlisle Cullen."

"Why do you do that? It's Bella." Her indignant huff makes my lips twitch at the corner, and I pull out my wallet and drop a few bills on the table before grabbing my jacket from beside me. I wait until it's on and I'm standing above her before I lean down and answer, my face mere inches away from hers.

"Because we aren't friends, Isabella, and we never will be. I don't make it a habit to befriend my fathers minions, and you're nothing more than that." Pulling back, I turn towards the door. "Enjoy your hot chocolate."

I stop to give Mrs. Cope a kiss on the cheek, her eyes sliding towards Isabella with an unspoken question that I wasn't ready to answer, before I make my way to the door, pausing as Shelly's voice rings out behind me. "Think about what I said, Edward."

When daybreak hits my windows the next morning, Mrs. Cope's words were still ringing in my ears. I hadn't slept well, but the interior of my Volvo wasn't exactly meant for sleep. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I sigh and pull my seat into a sitting position, turning the ignition on so that the heater can chase away the morning chill. I hadn't gone home last night, choosing the leather seat of my Volvo over the chance encounter of Carlisle and his whore, but the taste in my mouth and the two day old jeans I was wearing made it clear that I needed to brush my teeth and shower before school.

I shouldn't have worried; In typical Carlisle fashion, he isn't home when I get there. It takes twenty minutes to shower and another ten to make my way downstairs. A look at the clock tells me I'm still early, so I turn towards the kitchen and freeze in my tracks when I hear movement inside. Carlisle's Mercedes isn't in the garage, so I'd assumed nobody was home, but I should've known better. My father was adamant on keeping women out of his business, which meant that when I stepped inside of the brightly lit space, the whore he brought home was rummaging around in the kitchen my mother designed. Clearing my throat, I smirk to myself as she jumps and spins around, dropping the glass in her hand in the process. Ignoring her presence completely, I walk to the fridge and pull out the jug of orange juice, choosing to drink it straight from the carton instead of walk to where she crouched with a rag and hurried to pick up the pieces of the broken glass to grab a cup of my own.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was home. Carlisle said —"

Cutting her off with a bark of laughter, I shove the orange juice back into the fridge and make my way to leave. "If you care about yourself at all, you won't believe a word out of that man's mouth."

Slamming the door shut behind me, I rake my hand through my hair and grimace. The day hadn't even started yet and I was already in a foul mood, but I had a plan and couldn't miss school. It was time Jasper and I had a fuckin' conversation.

—

 **Thank you for reading! Reviews make me type faster.**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer: We do not own twilight. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the authors. The authors are in no way associated or affiliated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

 **BPOV**

Something wasn't right. I knew it before I opened my front door, but I'd trained for this. I knew better than to pause my footing. Instead, I kept my feet moving up the stairs and onto my porch as if nothing was amiss, but my eyes roamed from left to right and took in every detail they could. It wasn't just instinct that I was relying on, although that was sending all kinds of warning bells my way, but the plants in front of the door were moved. The weather in this shitty town wasn't good for much, but in this case, it helped clue me in. The rings that the pots had left on the weathered wood didn't line up with the placement, and it was either a sign that whoever was here was either in a hurry or careless. They obviously knew very little about Jasper and I if they thought that we'd keep a spare key under a potted plant.

If Aro hadn't been the man who raised me, I may have let my guard down, may have been over confident and stepped inside without worrying. The negligence and idiocy of the entire act would lead most to believe that if there were someone inside my house, that they were no real threat to me. Yet, Aro did raise me, and the man was nothing if not thorough when it came to training. My guard stayed up, and when my hand came down on the door handle, my eyes flashed to the upper corner of the porch awning. I waited a beat, and then a second. _Nothing. Fuck._

Jasper and I had wired the entire place with cameras the moment we moved in, and while most would never notice the pinprick of light that was a constant, steady flicker in that dark corner, I knew what to look for. The cameras were offline.

I'd paused for too long already, so my key slid into the lock and turned with ease, my heartbeat slowing in anticipation as I turned the knob and pushed it open. Washington was a cold place to live, and my jacket easily hid the movement of my hand as I reached into my sleeve and palmed a throwing knife. _Rule number two: Always be prepared._

My feet were loud against the wood flooring, but my ears strained to listen for any noise that went beyond myself. My keys landed in the bowl beside me, and I shut the door behind me without turning around. _Normal, Bella. Act Normal._

Well, _normally_ I'd be taking off my coat, but that would leave me at a disadvantage should someone decide to make a move. Swallowing, I decide that it's a risk I need to take, if only for the fluid movement that the absence of my coat would allow. I move quickly, my fingers clenched tightly around the steel handle of my blade the entire time, but in lieu of hanging up the damn thing, I drape it over the hallway table and glance around.

Nothing. There was no noise, no movement that I could pinpoint. Flipping the lock on the door, I look at the ugly clock that Jasper hung on the wall directly across from the front door. _No little red dot._ My free hand slips into my back pocket and pulls out my phone as I make my way towards the living room, my fingers flying over the keys before the device is slipped back against my ass and I silently let loose a sigh of relief. Whatever happened now, Jasper would be listening, and he was the only person I trusted to do what needed to be done. Hell, he was the only person I trusted, period.

I round the corner to the living room and my wrist is immediately snared in someone's grasp, my arm slammed up against the wall and the knife nearly knocked from my fingers. If I were any less prepared, I'd be disarmed, but my grip remains firm and my leg comes up to throw my attacker off balance. It doesn't work as well as I need it to, so I snap my head forward and ignore the pain that flares across my head as I collide with someones face. A muttered profanity has the knife falling from my hand and clattering to the floor, the fight leaving my body as I'm pinned against the wall. His face hovers in front of mine, the anger in his eyes evident, but I'm not naive enough to think that I'd win this fight, nor am I stupid enough to try. He thinks I should be surprised to see him, but I'm not.

" _Fuck._ You're getting good at that, Isabella. You might've been able to get the upper hand."

Scoffing, I resist the urge to smirk at the blood dripping down his face. "Alec. Why are you always so opposed to knocking?"

He lifts a brow and releases his grip on me, his hand going up to feel his nose. _I hope I broke it. It would serve him right._ "I've got to keep you on your toes, Is. I heard your plan to woo Carlisle's kid failed. I thought maybe you lost your charm."

"It didn't _fail,_ Alec. Carlisle sent me into this shitfest knowing exactly what would happen. If I had to guess, Edward passed whatever test this was supposed to be. I'm just a pawn. You should be familiar with the feeling."

When Carlisle had proposed his plan, I'd balked at the suggestion of seducing his son into a lifelong commitment. Joining the family shouldn't be taken lightly by anyone, and the thought of tricking someone into doing so, disgusted me. I didn't understand why Carlisle would need to resort to such drastic measures to begin with, but it was never my place to question him. If he was half the man he claimed to be, he could form a relationship with his son and it would negate any need for my involvement all together, but telling him that would be just as effective as pulling the trigger myself.

It wasn't until Uncle Aro sat me down and told me that I had no choice in the matter that I'd gone along with this ridiculous plan. I didn't trust Carlisle. I never had, but I agreed to do what I was told to do. I'd lived what felt like my entire life waiting to pledge myself to the Volturi, and if this is what it took, then I'd do it. I owed Aro that much. I had never been able to tell the man no, and he knew it.

When I was seven, I had a ballet rehearsal in Seattle. It was the first one that my Dad could attend, but we never made it to the studio. A guy with a few too many swigs of whiskey and an eighteen wheeler under his control wasn't paying attention and in the blink of an eye, my happy little family was taken from me. I was in the back seat, buckled in and dazed from the collision, but even now I can remember that night with startling clarity.

I had tear tracks down my cheeks and no matter how hard I screamed, my mom wouldn't turn around to check on me. Her head was bent at an odd angle and there was glass everywhere, the headlights from another vehicle illuminating the tiny little shards in her hair. They looked like glitter. I managed to unbuckle my seatbelt, and when I crawled between my parents and shook my dad's shoulder, his head rolled towards me. One word left his lips before the blood in his mouth made it impossible to talk.

" _Aro."_

Seconds later I was pulled from the car, and no amount of kicking or screaming would get anyone to let me see my parents again. It was hours, maybe even days, later that I listened to my father. I was in a room with a police officer and a lady with a badge around her neck. It had tiny, little pink flamingos up and down the ribbon, and I stared at them while the police officer talked. My father hated cops, so I didn't want to listen to anything that lady had to say. If Dad didn't like them, neither did I. Instead, I gave the flamingos names and pulled the blanket that someone draped around my shoulders, a little tighter. It smelled like old people, but it was warm and it hid my blood stained tutu from sight.

"… _any relatives. She comes from a large family, there has to be someone that will take her."_

My head snapped up and I looked at the flamingo lady's face for the first time. "Uncle Aro. Call my Uncle Aro." That's what my father had meant, wasn't it?

I spent that night in a hospital bed. _Concussion,_ they had said. _I was lucky,_ they had said. I'd lost everything, and I certainly didn't feel very lucky. These people, these officers and nurses and that stupid flamingo lady who had an answer for everything even though I asked her nothing, they were all stupid. It was the first thing I told Uncle Aro when he showed up the next day. He was in a suit, as he always was, a blood red tie hanging from his neck. He got down on one knee in front of me and grabbed my hand, a strange look in his eyes. "My dear. They said you're asking for me, but I'm afraid I can't help."

" _You must. Daddy said so. I'll do whatever you need, Uncle Aro. I won't be a bother."_

And so began my deal with the leader of The Volturi. Aro agreed to take me, but he'd warned me that I wouldn't have a normal childhood. He'd given me a choice. I could come with him, do things I probably wouldn't want to do, or go with the flamingo lady.

I knew what Charlie did, or at least I knew that he killed people sometimes. My choice came without any real contemplation at all. My father's last word to me was Aro's name, so it was an easy choice to make. He wouldn't tell me to go with Aro if it wasn't where he wanted me.

I'd been a good kid, but my easy life changed the night my parents died. There were no more hugs, no more teddy bears to keep me company while I slept or ballet lessons on the weekends. Instead, I was homeschooled by a lady who never smiled but taught me how to hide weapons underneath my clothing. Alec beat me to shit on a daily basis, and I practiced hand to hand combat with him until I could take down Jasper without even trying. My ballet skills, what little I had of them, were put to use when soft footing came into play, and I learned my way around more weapons than I could count.

If I were being honest, Alec was more of a presence in my life than Aro was, but at the end of the day, they were one and the same. Alec was Aro's right hand man, and regardless of our camaraderie, he would always be loyal to his boss.

Alec scowls at me and wipes the blood from his face as I push off of the wall and snatch my knife off of the floor. The sound of a key sliding into the lock has both of our heads turning towards the front door, and Jasper swaggers in with that look of ease that he always has. Alec rolls his eyes and makes himself at home by taking up residence on the couch, but my eyes are locked with Jaspers. He's silently asking if I'm alright as he makes his way towards us, and I blink once, letting him know that I am. His lips lazily turn up at the corner and his eyes flick towards Alec as his hand slips into my back pocket and pulls out my phone. Hitting the end button, Jasper drops a kiss to my cheek and slides it back into place.

Jasper was the only person who knew me as both the girl I was before my parents died and the girl I was now. We'd been shoved together for formal functions for as long as I could remember, and Aro tolerated his presence because of the ties his family had with The Volturi, but he and Alec had never gotten along. Alec had all but demanded that I have nothing to do with him as a child, but it was one of the few times that my defiance paid off. Aro was fine with it, so Alec had no choice but to tolerate my friendship.

 _Friendship._ That's all it was, despite how much enjoyment Jay got out of it by pretending otherwise in Alec's presence. He found it endlessly amusing to irritate my mentor, as Aro liked to call him.

"What brings you by, Alec?" Jasper casually rests his weight against the armchair beside me. He'd never sit down with Alec in the room if he could avoid it.

" _Isabella_ and I need to talk. It's of no concern to you."

Exhaling in aggravation, I throw myself down into the chair Jasper is leaning against and throw him a look. I wasn't in the mood for games today; I had enough shit to deal with without them.

"Alec. Cut the shit. Why are you here?" Alec taps his fingers against his knee for a few moments before responding. He had picked up his penchant for theatrics from Aro, but unlike Aro, he could never hold out for long.

"Aro isn't happy with Carlisle at the moment. It seems they made an arrangement and he wasn't entirely honest about his son. Your Uncle wants reports from now on, directly to him, about Edward Cullen. It seems you're going to have to find a way to get closer to the boy some way or another, Isabella. If Carlisle comes to you for any reason, you're to let me know immediately and give him nothing of value. Is that understood?"

Gritting my teeth, I nod. I knew something like this was coming. Edward knew much more than Carlisle had led me to believe, and I have no doubt that he'd done the same to Aro. Alec stands, and Jasper shifts his weight in response.

"Isabella? There are no more limits. No more rules. Do what you see as necessary." Before I can respond, Alec is out the backdoor. _No more limits? Did they want me to kill Edward?_

I didn't think so, but it was clear that I had permission to do so if I uncovered something that posed a threat to Aro. One thing was certain; Edward Cullen had just gotten a hell of a lot more interesting. What did he know that Aro considered a threat?

Jasper shakes his head and lets out a low whistle. "I don't trust him, B."

A let out a soft laugh and move to turn the surveillance feed back online. "Rule number one, Jasper. Trust no one."

—

 **Sorry for the slow update on this one, guys. There isn't a set schedule for chapter updates on this story, but it's been a few weeks. The puppet master was getting married and the holidays have been keeping her preoccupied. Reviews make her write faster though! Enjoy!**


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